


Sometimes, Our Biggest Enemy Is Our Selves

by FreckledSkittles



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Anxiety, Implied/Referenced Depression, M/M, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, self-care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:21:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22709923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreckledSkittles/pseuds/FreckledSkittles
Summary: Sometimes, it’s tough.
Relationships: Rafael Barba & Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 57





	Sometimes, Our Biggest Enemy Is Our Selves

**Author's Note:**

> I struggle with depression and anxiety frequently. And that’s okay. I take medicine for it. And that’s okay. Sometimes, I write about it to get myself through it. And that’s okay. This is what I made to remind myself. It might not be good, but it was never meant to be, and that’s okay. 
> 
> This show struggles with accurate depictions of mental health, so please do not let it hinder you from getting help.

Sometimes, it’s tough.

Sonny feels it in bouts, short and loud waves that cloud his mind. It’s high energy that makes his legs bounce and his hands tap across a desk. It’s jolts of electricity that cascade down his spine and keep his back rigid and his shoulders hard. Much like his voice, he needs to have it noticed. He needs to vocalize it, just to have it out there, even if it might not get noticed at first.

Sonny needs contact. He needs a reminder that he’s not alone, even if it’s brief. Physical contact, verbal communication, written word. It doesn’t matter what medium is used as long as he can consume it, swallow it whole and clutch it close to his chest. He’ll use it as a reminder for later, when he feels okay, to show himself that he got through a rough patch and is okay. To remind himself that he is safe.

Sometimes, Sonny wants to fly. Metaphorically, he wants to soar over everything and leave his body for a few seconds. If he could, his worries could not follow him, and he would be free to move as he pleased, unattached to a physical existence.

Sometimes, Sonny doubts his words work. Bouncing from precincts has lodged him into a fear of abandonment. That there is no place for him to call his own and to cherish close to his heart. And eventually, the place he landed in will turn him down, will whisk him off to another place to be dumped and used and abandoned once again. Sometimes, Sonny wonders if the parts he loves about himself are the very force that pushes others away from him. There would have to be something wrong with him to cause so many rejections in such a short amount of time. And as much as the jokes may flow, there is always the fear that the place he ended up will spit him out. Because no one had proved him wrong the times before. What could make an instance better than the others?

Sometimes, it’s tough.

Rafael feels it as a smack, a harsh brick wall that scrapes over his skin with the impact. His eyes unfocus a bit at the multitude of thoughts brewing inside him. It’s an embrace of snow, sharpened to let him know of every inch of his body, every cell, every atom. It’s a hyper-awareness that stops his tongue, one of the few forces able to accomplish such a feat. He can find solace in a tiny square with pegs and switches, pushing them to soothe the erratic wiggle of his fingers and the sweat of his palm.

Rafael cannot stand contact. He cannot talk, he cannot write, he cannot touch. No one could possibly understand, because they are not in his head. His experience is unique to him and him alone. Why would anyone else be able to comprehend his feelings? The best way for him to make sense of them is to be alone, to shroud himself in silence, to dig into his mind and wonder what went wrong to cause such a tightness in his chest.

Sometimes, Rafael falls. He trips over his armor and breaks it in two, exposing himself to words and looks and thoughts he normally could push through. He shows the world around him just how small he is, how much he compensates for, how true their words dangle above him. And even if the whole world is unable to view it, Rafael knows the word will spread, and his secrets will be known, and he will be ruined.

Sometimes, Rafael gets stuck in the same hole he had been climbing out of for years, the same hole that had been put under him since he was born, the same hole that still haunts him and reminds him of small details. His background. His history. His origins. Things he would have embraced if it weren’t for the cracks in his armor and the stilling of his voice.

Sometimes, it’s tough.

But they have each other.

Rafael can see when Sonny vanishes into his head, when his mouth runs faster than his mind and jumbles his thoughts and words, creasing his brow and crumbling from his composure. Rafael’s go-to method for soothing him is the right hugs he wraps around Sonny, the koala grips they joke about so often. Rafael cares, of course he does, and he loves to tout Sonny around. But the deepest parts of his feelings are only exposed to Sonny. Through soft kisses to his nose, through long koala hugs from behind and in front and all around that swear to love him always, through a murmur of mundane parts of his day or a song or his thoughts. It is not enough to cure, but it is enough to help.

Sonny can tell when Rafael crumbles, too tired to keep himself on two feet. Sonny knows he won’t want to talk about it until it’s over and done with, until he’s repaired his armor and stood above the hole that always tries to get him to stay. So Sonny does as much as he can indirectly: he prepares coffee, he folds clothes, he organizes their daily lives. He knows how to properly put away pocket squares and how to hang ties, when to scoop in when Rafael’s been staring at the cap for the laundry detergent for too long and when to fill the bath without the vocal request. It will take small steps for Rafael to remember that he can trust Sonny, he always can, and not worry about being too exposed. It is not enough to cure, but it is enough to help.

Sometimes, it’s tough. But they have each other.

Their solutions lie in themselves. Rafael has to piece his armor back together by himself. Sonny has to return to his body on his own. They are simply aided by each other’s efforts, much like a tour guide provides intel for tourists. They do not rely on one another to heal their wounds, but it helps the recovery. It helps to see Sonny going about their routines and proceeding as normal. It helps to have Rafael pressed against his back and reciting tales to the tune of a Cuban Spanish dialect. It helps to be with one another through the rough patches that fight them from within, because it’s worth it to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

They will see therapists—separately, for their own reasons and their own health. They will pick up helpful tips and healthy ways to push onward, learn to help themselves get better. Perhaps, when they are in better mindsets, they can accept the times they are not okay as easy as they can accept the times that the other is not okay. Because self-care is vital to human survival. But they must accept the problems before real healing can begin.

Sometimes, it’s tough. But they have each other. And that’s enough.


End file.
